Ebon Indenture: Crimson Nightshade
by Dovakaaz
Summary: (Note: This is the second book in the "Ebon Indenture" Series.) Two years after the White Knight's death, Skyrim's society is a much more corrupt and shadowy place, where crime is common, and money is no easy finding for the average nord. One particular average nord by the name of Jenekke, is soon to become apart of the corruption plaguing Skyrim, only to help his family.
1. Honor

Honor.

Honor was a word I could never avoid hearing my father say, Whether it was to teach me or my sister a lesson after we had done something related to it, or to pridefully speak of it as if it were all that mattered in life, He would always act, think and speak out of honor. Even in comparison to the Gray-Mane family that he like's to speak with, he was the most prideful when it came to honor. My mother and my sister, while not as obsessed with it as my father, still cared for honor as well.

I, however, was different. It wasn't as if I didn't care for honor at all; I did care for it, but I only cared for it when there was time and space for such a thing. In the situation my family and I were in now, there was no time or space for it at all.

I took a deep, relieved breath after dropping the last crate of supplies in Belethor's basement. I had hoped he would give me more work, I desperately needed the coin. From the stairs, footsteps were heard treading down. I turned around to find my co-worker and good friend, Lyncod, holding a crate, just finishing his work as well.

He dropped his crate on top of the one I left, adding on to the pile. "All done!" He said with relief, presuming his hard day of work was over since I told him. Lyncod was a big and tough nord, a large-and-in-charge type of man; I was surprised he was tired, even after the hours of work we had done. He swept the sweat off of his forehead, and then swept his long, blonde hair. "Let's get to Belethor and get our payment eh, Jenneke?"

"Yeah." I stoicaly replied taking a few breaths from fatigue. I was a twenty two year old nord with short red hair, and dark red eyes. My physical fitness and physique was fair; I wasn't a scrawny man, but I wasn't a bulky one either; That made my working times not so bad outside, as well as not too great.

We had emerged from the basement and returned to the inside of the store, to find Belethor's old hide, sitting behind his counter, counting great amounts of coin, stacked on the counter. I had presumed and hoped it was our payment, but it was not of course. Intead, Belethor retrieved two small pouches of septims from under his counter, handing one to each of us, saying, "There you go. Come back tommorow if you need more work."

"Thank you." We both replied simultaneously, and left his store.

After leaving, we left out of the store and loomed around the center well in the market area of town. Lyncod began opening and rummaging through the pouch. "How much did you get?"

"About fifty septims." I said, Not even looking at the pouch.

Lyncod raised a brow. "But... You didn't even look in the pouch yet."

"I don't need to anymore, I can tell just by feeling the weight of the pouch; I'm getting used to being meagerly paid, as you can see." I said, with a depressed sigh.

"Meagerly paid?" Lyncod replied.

"We worked our asses off all day there, and we both got paid barely 50 septims. Work more, Lyncod and you'll learn whether you've been gyped or not."

"Well, I wasn't thinking about that, have you already forgotten the reason why I was working with you?"

"Because your parents think you're spoiled and you needed to get out and do work. No, I have not forgotten."

Lyncod is a Battle-Born; His whole family is already prestigous, so his work was completely pointless, aside from his mother and father thinking he was a lazy slob. He passed his pouch of septims to me, nonchalantly. "Of course, I don't need this, but I know you do, so here."

I looked at him with a great, thankful stare and bowed my head to him. "Thank you, Lyncod." I was hoping he would do that.

"Don't worry about it, friend. How has your family been, by the way? Hanging on, right?"

Last thing I needed was a reminder of my troubles. "By a thread, Lyncod. My family's money together just barely paid the housing tax last month. I'm not sure if we'll make it this month."

The sound of my near-homelessness put Lyncod into anger. He aggressively asked, "Damn it, why wont your parents just take the money I wanted to lend you?"

"You know why. My dad's too prideful to accept help from a 'boy'." I said, quoting the words 'boy' with my fingers. "I'm in too much stress thinking about this..."

Lyncod nodded, then changed the subject. "Well, What time is it?"

I didn't know, so I simply inspected my surroundings; I looked at the night sky, pouring darkness upon the empty streets of Whiterun, only being stopped by the light of the braziers and lamps. I noticed the civilians of Whiterun were not outside, but in their homes, the windows of every house lit with candles or whatever else produces light. Outside was quite empty, aside from the guards making their patrol walks. I concluded, "Pretty late, I would guess."

Lyncod pointed at the Inn, making an awful lot more noise than usual. "Wanna go to the inn? Sounds like there are some new travelers there. I'll buy us a drink, maybe it'll take your mind off of your money troubles."

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

We entered the inn, to find what all the noise was about, and Lyncod's presumptions were right: There were a few visitors, a typical thing for a city in the center of Skyrim.

There were five people as we walked in, two of which sitting by the fire, one standing, hovering around the ones near the fire, one sitting at the bar, and one sitting in a table in the corner by his lonesome.

The two sitting at the fire were a nord man and a nord woman, wearing identical suits of iron armor, armed with iron blades. They seemed to be together.

The woman hovering over them was the town priest and crier, Hestene. She seemed to be talking to them over something; She was probably shoving her religious views down peoples throats like she loves to do all the time. I always disliked people like her, simply because of how obnoxious and brazenly closed-minded they are.

The man sitting on the counter of the bar was an interesting fellow; He was an imperial, clear skinned, and well shaven. He had a suit of leather armor, but it was dyed a flamboyant shade of red. His weapon was the most interesting of all though for me; A sword was at his waist, but it was like nothing I had seen before; It was long and slick, not like a broadsword at all.

The last man at the corner was shrouded in mystery. His entire body was shrouded in a black cloak and a hood that seemed to have some words or symbols inscribed on the edges of the cloak. He stuck out his arm from his cloak, revealing an arm with black and gray fur and a hand with long fingernails, or claws; I presumed he was a khajiit, along with someone who didn't want to be pestered at the time.

"Not as many people as usual, but still people; This should be fun. C'mon, Jenneke." He walked over to a bar stool and ordered two mugs of ale from the innkeeper.

I followed him and sat next to him, eyeing the red outfitted man a little bit as he was right next to me.

Whilst waiting for our drinks, The priest, Hestene was going on again about her ow n beliefs and how they only matter; A typical thing that she does with visitors at the inn, "You shouldn't be fighting for such evils!" She said, looking at the man in iron armor as he chewed on his food on a stick.

Unsurprisingly for a presumed adventurer, he wasn't a fellow with manners. He blatantly barked at her with his mouth full of food, "My blade doesn't belong to evil, priest. The same goes for my companion." The man patted the woman sitting next to him on the shoulder and he swallowed what he was eating.

Hestene crossed her arms. "Who does your blade belong to then, hm?" She asked.

"I don't know about Llori..." He looked at the nord woman he sat next to. "But my blade belongs to righteousness."

"And what of you?" Hestene said, looking at the woman, presumably named Llori.

"My blade belongs to no one, but me." The woman said defensively, probably annoyed by Hestene's aggression and nosiness.

She turned his head, and looked Me and Lyncod. "Ah, hello Jenneke, and Lyncod." She greeted.

We both gave her acknowledging nods.

"Harassing the travelers again, I see." Lyncod remarked with a chuckle.

I had looked at the innkeeper and wondered why the she wasn't stopping her from bothering them.

She ignored Lyncod's snarky remark then eyed at the flamboyantly dressed man we sat next to. "Hmm, what of you, foreigner? Who does your blade belong to?"

The imperial smiled, and looked up in thought. "My blade belongs to..." He took a swig of his mead, then said, "...The highest bidder."

Hestene Crossed her arms. "Hmph, An honor-less blade for hire. What an unbearable sight in a time like this-"

The man quickly replied, offended by her words. "In a time like this, money is nothing easy to come by, you over-religous cow."

"You could still fight for the wrong side at any given moment!" She said, slightly raising her voice.

"Get over it, woman. I, am a sellsword. I sell, my sword. Wait..." The imperial eyed Hestene. "Are you one of those Stendarr worshiping maniacs?" The man laughed at her for a moment.

"I worship Kynareth, You buffoon. I have no relation with them, they are nothing but terrorists and outlaws!" Hestene defensively said.

"That group was labeled as a terrorist faction?" I asked Lyncod while just getting my drink.

Lyncod explained, "Yeah, The Order of Stendarr were officially labeled a terrorist faction a few weeks ago."

"Wow, that's crazy..." I said, taking a drink of the cold ale.

Lyncod nodded. "Yeah... You would figure that a group that was trying to purge Skyrim of it's evils wouldn't end up with such a title, but after what happened two years ago in Riften..." Lyncod shook his head. "It's no surprise. I heard a rumor that they might ban Stendarr worship too, like they did with Talos worship decades ago."

After listening to Lyncod, I noticed Hestene looked at the shrouded khajiit in the corner. "And what about you, hm? Over there, in the corner."

The grey hooded man said nothing, but continued to drink his beverage.

"Hello? I asked you a question." She continued.

Since the innkeeper did nothing, I decided to step in. "Clearly he doesn't want to be pestered, Hestene." I said, attempting to get her out of trouble.

"That doesn't mean he has no ears." Hestene replied, desiring, or demanding a response.

I groaned. "If you walked into an inn without saying a word and kept your entire body shrouded, would you want some casual banter?"

The hooded man turned his head to me, his face still difficult to see. "You're observant." The hooded man said. "Good." He got up from his table and slowly walked towards me. I raised a brow at him as he approached. He revealed his face to me, taking his hood off; He was indeed a khajiit, as I expected. He had a black mohawk on his head, piercing green eyes and had a black and grey coat of fur. He was about the same age as me, or at least, he seemed like it; I couldnt tell a khajiit from another person. The khajiit turned to Hestene said, "Family." His voice didn't have the typical khajiit accent at all, it was very clear and composed; I wondered if he was born here.

"...What?" She asked.

The khajiit's ears twitched as he spoke. "You wanted to know who my blade belonged to, so I gave you an answer; My blade belongs to family."

Hestene nodded slowly, realizing that. "Ah, that's respectable. I'm quite surprised someone like you is honorable."

The khajiit squinted his eyes at Hestene. "...Excuse me?"

"Oh! Um..." Hestene shook her head, assuming that the khajiit thought she was racially profiling him. "Nothing, I didn't... erm..." She wasn't sure how to respond.

"You should think more before you speak. For your own sake. But I suppose, judging by your actions, that you would never learn such a thing."

"Wh-What? What do you think you know about me, stranger?"

Finally, the khajiit started talking alot more than he originally did. "Give me a break, Woman; I know your type. You put religion and worship before anything and not let anyone or anything get in your way because you constantly fear death and want a good afterlife, and you can't understand how someone else could have anything else in mind, so you swing your own thoughts and beliefs like a giant flag to people because you're too closed minded, afraid and insecure to fathom anyone else's beliefs. Is that accurate enough?"

"I..." Hestene stood silently and stared back at the man, as if she had done something terrible.

There was silence; the muse that had been playing his flute had stopped as the khajiit began his rant. All that was heard was the cook in the side room, and the logs of wood burning in the fireplace.

The khajiit turned from Hestene and put his hood back on. "Family is all that matters to me." He said, then walked out of the inn.

Hestene looked to herself, then sat down in silence, finally.

"He shut that bitch up, eh?" The imperial man said, and laughed.

And with that collusion, I decided it was time to leave. "I'm gonna head home... Thanks for the drink, Lyncod, I appreciate it."

"Going so soon? Well, alright. Sleep well."


	2. Gifts

I had left and quickly returned home after the debacle at the inn and entered using my key, and opened the door to hear a conversation where my parents, unsurprisingly, were arguing about something. I sighed and simply tried to walk by them as they argued mindlessly about something I paid no attention to, hoping they wouldn't pester me while I was getting by. Of course, that was a failure, and My father called to me aggressively the moment I was seen.

"Jenekke!" My father barked.

I took a deep breath, pretending to not be annoyed. Last thing I wanted to hear after my hard days of work with an underwhelming pay was to have him whine at me... again. "...Yeah?" I responded, with a tiresome voice.

He pulled something from the table and waved it to me. "What the hell is this?!"

The house wasn't well lit, we couldn't afford candles, so we merely had a single lantern sitting on the dining room table. That single lantern helped though: what he was holding was a huge pouch, filled with gods know what.

I shrugged my shoulders after giving it a look. "How should I know?"

"Don't play dumb, boy!" He dropped the pouch on the table and it spilled over, leaving a trail of gold from the pouch.

My eyes suddenly widened at the sight. "What the..."

My father continued, "Somebody knocked on our door this afternoon and we answered it. Nobody was there, but this pouch of coin was here at our doorstep. Now I want to ask you something..." He closes his eyes, clearly in rage that is suppressed. "...Does your friend, and the Battle-Borns think I'm stupid?"

Lyncod has repeatedly attempted to lend my family money, as mentioned earlier, but my father, being too prideful and stubborn, refused to accept it every time he got the offer; He never liked the Battle-Borns anyway, though he didn't mind me being friends with one. It's clear what he's thinking right now, but I actually know that Lyncod didn't do that.

I immediately reply, "Lyncod and I have been working for Belethor for the entire day together! He couldn't have done that if we were busy working!"

"A Battle-born is working? You expect me to believe that?"

"His parents thought he was being lazy, so they made him follow me around to get some work done."

"Bullshit!" He shouted.

"Jergen, be calm.", my mother said as she sat next to him at the table. "You may wake Jenna."

"You already did." Jenna said from her room. She entered the dining room with a great yawn; She resembled my father very much, though she was an imperial; Long dark hair, pale skin, and and great blue eyes, while I carried my mother's; though I was a nord, my skin was tanned slightly, I have a short red head of hair, and my eyes were quite brown. It was quite the mix-match for both of us, but I think we both enjoyed the uniqueness of ourselves.

Jenna took a short stretch and asked, "What's the problem?"

"Your brother thinks I'm a fool, telling me that Lyncod boy was working with him at Belethors."

Jenna took some thought, then responded, "...He was."

"I- ...Wait, what?"

"Yes, they were both in Belethor's, practically all day. I saw them both multiple times over there while I was around town."

My father's arched eyebrows turned to normal after hearing that, but his suspicions did not fade. He did calm down finally, and laid back on his chair, taking a deep breath. "Well... who did it come from then?"

"How should I know?" I said.

My father closed his eyes in thought, unable to think of any possibilties that he would know either. He simply gave us a waving motion with his hand, while my mother put her hand on her shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "Just get lost until I figure this out... I'm not using this money until I do so."

I gave him a short nod, then went to my room for sleep.

The bed I slept in, like everything else in the house, was old and rickety, for not much else was available to us. I lied in it and took yet another deep breath, unable to sleep for another hour or so again. I tried to relax, but there was just too much stress on my mind. "How did things end up like this?" I thought. My entire family had decent paying, consistent jobs months ago... but so much bad has happened due to the way things are with money as of this year... of course, all thanks to the infamous Thieves Guild, which everyone is too afraid to so much as speak of at this point. I don't know anything of politics, but Lyncod tells me what he learns all the time. He told me that the Thieves Guild is in control of the major points of Skyrim that control this thing Lyncod calls an "economy". I'm not sure what that is in particular, but Lyncod says it's some kind of system of wealth in politics that's supposed to have money be equally revolved and given out to the people in Skyrim, so that the people can get their pay for what they've, and stores can get their customers. But money is hard to get now because the Thieve's Guild is taking it all... or at least, that's how I think it's working. I'm no man of great education; I've got the intelligence of a farm boy, so I'm not great at knowing things like this; I just gain information from my friend.

With those pondered thoughts, I dozed off and fell asleep, still unaware of how these things worked.

The next day had come, and I had, of course, gone out of my way to think of another place to get some quick work done. Standing right outside of my house, I close my eyes and think; Belethor said that if I needed anymore work, I could go to him, but he pays like a cheap bastard, so I needed alternatives. I couldn't work at the blacksmith near the entrance because I know nothing of blades, I couldn't work at the sleeping giant because a bunch of skimpily dressed wenches already took my chance to get that job... There weren't many things a man with no specific profession could do here. I sighed, stressed in my own thoughts and opened my eyes again, trying to make the stress go away.

Upon opening my eyes however, I see a man before me, looking directly at me. He was a grizzly looking nord, taller than me, dressed in brown leather armor, and hardly perceivable, for a brown cowl to match his outfit veiled his head. I flinched, taking a step backward quickly before I say, "Damn it, don't sneak up on me like that!"

The man says nothing however, he merely stares at me.

"...Can I help you?" I asked, awkwardly.

Upon hearing that, He reached into his pocket and revealed a note, holding it before me as if he were giving it to me.

I stare at him, and the note, then slowly pull the note from his grip.

After taking the note, he turns from me and leaves my presence.

I inspect the letter; an odd symbol, which I can only describe as a diamond with a circle in it, is stamped on the letter, keeping it shut. I pull it open to find a very odd message, stating, "Go to the basement of the Sleeping Giant Inn. The innkeeper will stop you before you enter it, and say, "What do you think you're doing?" This, is a passphrase. You will specifically respond, "Enshrouding in Shadow." He will let you pass when you say that."

- T. P.

My eyes widened and my heart began to pound at the sight of this. "What the hell..." I muttered to myself.


	3. Meetings

I stared at the note in shock, wondering what to do with the thing. Do I take the orders? From the unknown presence? Why would I do that? It's clear that this isn't of any good intent from the recipient and the deliverer... but at the same time, I'm curious as to who this is from... I made my decision, I was going to get to the bottom of this, at least to figure out who this is from, since I have no clue who "T.P." is.

I walked through town and entered the inn, looking around, searching for the entrance to the basement. I raised a brow, not capable of seeing where it is, so I decided to look behind the bar. It was indeed there, a hatch in the ground. I didn't say anything; I merely walked around the bar and slowly to the hatch, and while I was doing this, the innkeeper gave me a wide-eyed look, glaring at me as I crossed his space.

The innkeeper of the Bannered Mare, Samael, was a fair person, a middle-aged redguard, but he didn't tolerate randoms passing through his personal space He eyed me and asked, "Umm... what do you think you're doing?"

I turned to him, and remembering the note's message, responded exactly as I was supposed to, "...Enshrouding in shadow." I responded.

His eyes widened the moment I said that. He walked closer to me and gently pushed me to a corner, presumably trying to speak quietly. "Jenekke? You? What are you doing associating yourself with the Thieve's Guild?!" He said discreetly.

Then my heart began to really pound. That's what I was dealing with when I got this note; What were the odds. I quickly retorted, but also defended myself, "The Thieve's Guild?! I didn't know that! I just got a note from some shady looking guy and it told me to do this..."

He slowly nodded. "So you're the recepient, then..."

"Yeah!"

"Hmm..."

At that point, I had learned all I needed to know. There was no way I would have anything to do with the very thing that's plaguing the province. I shook my head and spoke to Samael with honest, "Look, I'm not associating myself with those rats, I'm just going to-"

"No. You have to go now." Samael said, grimly.

"What? why?"

The innkeeper checked his own voice, making sure it was silent, and whispered. "Jenekke... the Thief Prince is down there. You don't want to ignore what someone like him says..."

I actually almost gasped.

"I know this must all be sudden for you... but just go down there, and talk to him about whatever he wanted to speak to you about, and just go, okay?

In my moment of panic, his idea was clear and calmly spoken to me. I nodded, accepting it, for I couldn't think of anything better, or really think out a plan at all. I turned and opened the hatch, and climbed the ladder down and looked around. What I saw, was a typical basement, filled with giant kegs to store all the mead and wine that fills the mugs that quench customer's thirsts.

The man, of course, was far more shocking than my surroundings. He sat on a desk, placed in the middle of the basement. The heavily revered and feared thief prince, of all people, was someone I had actually seen before. A khajiit with gray and black fur sporting a black mohawk was quietly sipping a beverage from glass while reading some messages and letters, until I had come down from the ladder. The moment he saw me, he gave me a greeting smile and put his things down on the desk in the center of the room. "Ah, you're here." He said, eagerly.

I slowly muttered as I stared at him, "You... you're the one from-"

"From last night, yes." The khajiit nodded his head as he finished my sentence.

"Wha... what do you want from me?"

"I'm not here to hurt you, if that's what you're thinking." He said, with a smile. "In fact, Here..." He grabbed a wine glass from under the desk and had it filled with mead, from a keg, and handed it to me. "You're a mead guy, right? Pretty much every nord in Skyrim is, no offense though."

I refused his paltry offer, putting my hand before the drink. "You didn't answer my question."

"Ah, why so unfriendly?" He asked with a raised brow.

I got to my point. "Samael told me who you are and where you're from. I don't want anything to do with you!"

His eyes squinted, finally getting as serious as I was at the time. "Damned innkeeper..." He put the filled glass on the desk and went to business. "Alright, so you know who I am, which is fine. But... you shouldn't be so rude to me, especially after that gift I gave to your parents."

"...Gift? What gift?" It only took me a few seconds to figure out what he was referring to, thinking about the last eventful thing that's happened to my family relating to a possible "Gift" that may have been received. "Wait... that gold?" I assumed.

He nodded once again, "Yes. Your parents did receive it, didn't they?"

"...Yes. They think that the Ba-"

"That the Battle-Borns gave it to you? Hmph. I could have sworn I placed a symbol, irrelevant to the battle born's on the pouch. Odd... Well, either way, you can gain much more money than that, provided you hear me out Jenekke."

It was about time for me to get defensive. I balled my hand into a fist, and shouted,"Stop acting as if you know me! I told you I'm not associating myself with you!"

The khajiit continued, "True, I don't directly know you, but I do know a fair amount of information about you, Jenekke."

"What do you think you know about me?"

His ears twitched as he heard me say that, He didn't raise his voice at all, he was still very calm, "I know that you and your family are having money troubles, an understandable issue in a time like this. That being said, I'm willing to help you."

I insecurely reacted, "My families wealth is none of your business, Fur-Licker!"

"And that's where you're wrong; Wealth is my business."

I groaned and got to the point. "What do you want?"

He nodded and explained. He didn't directly explain, but instead, went into some odd riddle-like monologue, "You... are a stray bird, fluttering wherever you can to find a place where you can survive. The life you have is a life filled with hardships, and anyone that truly puts their heart and will into it can survive. However... in this time, day and age, the environment wont let you do such things. Your heart is not enough to survive in our new environment now. You cannot fly alone, you cannot survive alone, Jenekke. While there are many alternatives..." Ly'ro stopped his monologue for a moment to take a quick sip of his drink. "I want you to join my flock."

This was a lot to take in, but after hearing his words... how he had apparently been watching me... I calmed myself and gave him my words. "...Look. I'm going to tell you this one time. I don't want anything to do with you. Anything. You're going to stay away from me, and leave me alone from here on; I dont care how long you've been watching me, or how long you've been trying to get in contact with me.


	4. Questioning

It's been a day since the encounter I had with the Thief Prince. With 24 whole hours, many thoughts were had after the nerve-wracking event. Thoughts such as actually considering his offer, time and time again as I see how close my family is to becoming homeless. But I was no fool; I couldn't ever work for the Thieve's Guild. My father would eventually catch on if I actually did such a thing And even then, I still have my own moral borders. I'm not evil, nor am I a cat burglar.  
>But even when I knew that, the thought of taking the Thief Prince's side and working for him came through my mind, as I do this honest work for poor pay. It was in the middle of the day, and I stood in a wheat farm outside the walls of Whiterun, and I walked slightly offroad and into the tundra. Apparently, my desire for work had become noticed by a traveling Alchemist. The man gave me a task to collect a specific for him while he was in the inn, taking a moment to relax; He was apparently a student of the Winterhold College, according to him.<p>

I expected to be in danger while outside the walls of Whiterun and further outside the roads of Skyrim, but after ten minutes of pursuing this "Nirnroot" I was told to collect, the task proved to be far more tedious than dangerous. I took a deep breath, not out of exhaustion, but irritation, looking at the ground for this magical plant I was to look for. The alchemist told me it would only be found near bodies of water, small or large, and emit a very noticeable glow and a chiming sound. I have no luck however. I stand down a stream, looking at some Mudcrabs as i finally figured my search was hopeless. I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, I would have to try harder, and on top of that, get that damned thought of the Thief Prince's offer out of my head.

But what I was doing didn't matter after what was to happen now. The footsteps of a person was heard from behind me, and I turned around to get a sight of whoever it was. Surprisingly enough, it is the alchemist who commissioned me. He's wearing a robe with his head, his face just as difficult to see as he was when I had first seen him earlier today.

"Oh, hello." I greeted.

He gave me a nod and said nothing.

After an awkward silence and exchange of sight, I turned back around and simply spoken to him as I looked around. "So... this Nirnroot stuff is a lot more difficult to find than I thought. Not saying I'm giving up on the job or anything. What are you doing outside the inn by the way? I thought you said you were..."

Upon saying those words, I heard some odd sound that I've never heard before from behind me. Out of curiosity and some form of suspicion, I turned around and found my commissioner using magic. I knew absolutely nothing about magic and couldn't tell any one power from another, but his actions made it clear that he wasn't trying to do anything good. He pointing his arm at me and thrust it to me, firing a green colored energy at me, faster than I could react, as this was all happening the moment I turned around. After that, everything when to darkness.

Afterwards, I came to an awakening from the shocking event. I had opened my eyes, but saw nothing. I had tried to move my hands, but they were clearly tied behind my back; I could feel them. The feeling of linen had been covered on my face, as If this was a mask on my head, and my hands where bound, then without a doubt, had been kidnapped. With this revelation, I panicked and shouted, only to have a single voice respond:

"Hush your tongue, prisoner. The one saying anything here, is me." The mask was taken off my head, and what I can see is a single figure. It is a man, shrouded in white robes, his face covered with a hood and a white cloth mask; Only his eyes were visible, displaying a nonchalant expression, as if he's done this before multiple times. He crossed his arms and said, "I'm going to tell you one thing: Answer my questions and no harm will be done to you. What do you know of the Thief Prince?"

The moment he said the words Thief Prince is when I snapped. I had connected the dots; the job I was given was just a trap, and people are now looking at me as a relevant person to the thief prince, the one thing I didn't want to do. and as I said, I snapped, "I know nothing of the Thief Prince you stupid, goddamned maniac!" I shouted in anger.

He squinted his eyes squinted angrily at my reaction. "...Oh? Then what exactly... is this?" From his belt, his revealed something unexpected; The note that was given to me from yesterday, which had me go down the basement.

I was shocked and didn't know what to say; He must have found it after I had thrown it away.

"I had been watching you, the moment that shady looking man was sent to give you the note. When you ran from the inn, you threw this out. Luckily... I found it."

I was speechless. I didn't know what to tell him. Why was this man stalking me? I looked at his outfit a second time, gazing at his pure white robs, and caught on even further; The white robes could mean one specific thing thing. This man was one of the faction of the crazy vigilantes of Skyrim, Once standing under The White Knight. "You're... one of the Order of Stendarr?" I asked.

He crossed his arms. "Yes. Anything else you would like to know that's already obvious?"

I said nothing, and eyed my bindings; I was strapped to a hands tied behind my back, and legs were tied to the bottom of the chair. I wondered if I could find a way out, but my captor noticed my actions.

"Don't even think about trying to escape, boy." He clears his throat and continues, "Now tell me... I've been scanning the underbelly of Whiterun for quite a bit now, and I've finally found a good lead, and that lead is you. You're going to help me. On this note, I see the initials, "T.P." as the sender. If my assumptions are correct... then this must be the initials for the Slayer of the White Knight?"

After thinking about it for a few moments, I decided to come to a conclusion that could benefit me, "Tell me you'll get him to leave me alone!"

The captor tilted his head at my response. "...What?" He said.

"The Thief Prince has been watching me, okay? He told me so, because he wanted me to join him. I don't know why he wants me, but he does. I want him to leave me alone because I don't want anything to do with that piece of filth!"

He squinted his eyes once again, not in a threatening manner, but an pondering one. "...After you lied to me, I find this difficult to believe. But I do know that among the fair and honorable people of Whiterun, your father is one of them. I suppose since your father is honest, so are you."

I took a deep relieved breath. I noticed i've been doing that way too often as of late.

"However. You did lie to me."

"Of course I lied to you!" I impulsively shouted. "You kidnap me, and put me in gods know where, and you expect me to answer you with honesty?!"

"Hmph. A smart mouth on you, hmm?" He put the mask right back on to me, causing me to panic and shout once again.

What he was going to do with me, I wouldn't know.


End file.
